Tempting The Dominatrix

T H I R T Y - T H R E E

God, she was so beautiful.

God, I am the luckiest man alive. 

"So...What's her name then? Does the V stand for something?"

I glance once again in his direction, searching his eyes. I see sincerity and...something else buried within them that I can't quite interpret, but I let it go.

Because her milky brown eyes are the sole occupant in my head.

"Sorry Oliver. Can't tell you." The thought of her accepting me speaking her name caused the corners of my lips to quirk up in a small smile, my eyes once again gracing the ceiling, yet seeing nothing but her face and her body clouding my vision. 

A featherless chicken could be doing the moonwalk and I would never know.

She was all I could see.

I couldn't wait to see her again. 

"Why not?" 

I turn toward Oli and see a small pout on his face, the sight causing a slight chuckle to escape my lips. 

I can't remember when I've felt such peace...such tranquility.

Not since my parents died.

"I just can't Oli. Please respect that." I turned toward him with a pointed look.

He raised a brow, eyes scanning every inch of me, from my face to the attire I was still wearing from after practice, to the small bag  packed and resting at the edge of my bed. 

He releases a sigh and runs a hand through his hair, before getting up to finally take off the sweat drenched football uniform, carefully placing his helmet on the shelf high on the closet.

I thought the conversation was over, but he speaks again.

"You've been more...confident since you've been with her." He says, still not looking at me and reaching to remove his slick shirt, then moving toward the – far too tight in my humble opinion – padded trousers. Apparently the girls (and some guys) went crazy for the body hugging football kits that the players donned. 

I personally didn't see the appeal.

Who wants to see a mans ass so clearly defined in the pressed uniform? How do they run around with that tight ass shit and the even tighter jockstrap during a game? That just sounds miserable to me. 

But hey, everyone has their kinks.

Hell, I was learning ones I never knew I had. 

Thanks to Valencia.

God, her name sounded incredible even in my head.

"Have I?" I asked after a long pause.

He turns around, and I look toward the ceiling again to avoid the far too revealing jockstrap he wore. Jesus christ that shit looked uncomfortable as fuck. 

"Yeah. You barely stutter anymore. I mean, shit, you haven't stuttered around me for a while but I've noticed you haven't done so around others as much either."

I hum quietly at his statement. 

He's right. I haven't been stuttering nearly as much. I've felt so much more comfortable in my skin since being with her. Since talking to her. 

Hell, I had the confidence to tell her what I wanted.

What I really wanted from her.

I could barely believe it, but it was like the more confident version of myself possessed my lips and spoke for me. Sure, a few stutters were released here and there. But I was proud regardless.